one day I might not make it back home (may catch-all)

[descendency]

WHO: Mingyu and YOU
WHEN: All through the month babes.
WHERE: House of Dew, on the road, wherever.
WHAT: Slutty, slutty CR.
WARNINGS: He's a hooker it WILL get sexual. Otherwise no real warnings yet. Will update. DM/PM/plurk me for prompts/whatever.

dreaming of foxes

At least this client was a kind one. Those could be few and far between, in this line of work. The House of Dew kept its business, and by extension its patrons, orderly enough, but the professional respect afforded Mingyu by most clients was not the same thing as genuine kindness.

He was patient with Mingyu, understanding when Mingyu apologized for how frazzled, how distracted he was. Refused an offer to reschedule, to discount his rate. They sat and talked for a good portion of the session before getting down to, how to say, the main event.

Mingyu even felt a little relaxed by the end of it, though the fox tattoo he was carefully keeping out of sight of his guest felt like it was searing into his skin with how hyper-aware he remained of it. It was moving. It had started moving when the ship carrying Archeval's pet project drew near to the ports. It was all he could think about, though he'd rushed back to the House of Dew only partway into the rescue attempts in an effort to stay in the house's good graces as he did not know how much longer he would remain reliant on his employment here.

Now he was just waiting for his client to go, unable to bear to rush him even though they were past their time because he'd been kind.

"See you again soon?" the guest asked, and Mingyu smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.

"I should be so lucky," he replied smoothly, well-practiced, slow to slip his robe back on because a man would forgive a great many things about your mood if enough skin was on display.

Comments

[foxable]

He thought about moving. The idea flashed over his mind with a sudden blinding clarity. Escape. Run. Regroup. It was how Fox kept himself alive, knowing when to disappear. And he felt it now, that deep intense instinct to flee. But he didn’t move - barely even breathed - blinking as his chest started pulling painfully tight, making it harder to breathe, harder to think.

His thoughts didn’t make sense. Or, rather, where he expected thoughts he found only defeaning white noise with a slowly growing whisper of it’s your fault, this is your fault, how can you be upset when you’re the one who did this hissing in the background. There was no logic to go with it, no analysis, just dumb shock and a quickly burgeoning panic.

When the door opened again (he had no idea how long it had been between - a second? a year?), he raised his eyes to meet Mingyu’s, his vision blurred as a wetness rimmed them.

“Um—“ he said, eloquently, his heart slamming so hard that he could hear it louder than almost anything else. He couldn’t keep eye contact for long, gaze slipping down to Mingyu’s throat, to the clear dark marks of passion that had so recently been left there. He abruptly turned his eyes away, suddenly feeling a little sick.

“Sorry,” he felt himself saying in a rush without even thinking about it. “Sorry, I— I’ll— I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll come back- um- later— sorry—"

He finally regained use of his muscles, and he used it to take a single shaky step backward away from the door. Escape. Run. Regroup.

[descendency]

Mingyu reached out after him, then froze. Fox always spooked so easily. Ran at the slightest provocation. Needed an exit the way people needed air. Mingyu had been so careful in the beginning, to keep the door open without making him feel boxed in. But they'd gotten past that, had grown so familiar Mingyu had forgotten this feeling. What could he do? What could he say? Fox, this Fox, didn't know.

"Huli," he repeated softly, voice cracking with his heart, with his valiant effort to hold back his tears. "Huli, I— I missed you—"

[foxable]

The problem was, he had gotten used to it. After his Aunt- after Mingyu meeting the only person Fox really considered family that he’d had left… He hadn’t wanted to run anymore. Hadn’t felt himself an imposition on Mingyu’s time and patience. Hadn’t felt himself a weird, disorganized burden.

And now he felt adrift in the ocean again and it was all his fault.

“— At least— at least you know who I am,” he found himself stammering, still not looking at Mingyu, trying to process everything. “I didn’t - I didn’t fuck up so badly as to erase myself, at least, just - just change- change everything—“

He wasn’t talking to Mingyu, not really. Because then he would have to compute what the man had just said, what he had meant by the word miss.

“I— I’ll—- I can fix it, I’ll fix it, I just - I just have to try again and I’ll-“

Oh. He hadn’t been paying attention to his face, and suddenly he felt a tear slide down his cheek, startling him. And then another. And another. It was like everything that had happened in the last week was finally catching up with him emotionally and completely overwhelming him.

What on earth had he done?

[descendency]

Fox wasn't making sense, but then— Did he usually? The thought struck Mingyu as almost funny, which made him feel immediately lightheaded as he— He watched Fox standing there, muttering to himself, and then start to cry. What was it Fox thought he needed to fix?

He started to reach out to Fox again, then stopped and simply… opened his door. Stepped aside, gesturing in.

"...come inside?" he asked, voice pitching high with desperation.

[foxable]

Inside. Inside the room that the man had come out of. Inside the room where Mingyu took men to his bed, living in a twisted and messed up world, a broken timeline, possibly a broken universe. He didn’t want to. He wanted to run away.

But it had been years since Mingyu had become the home he ran to. Where else could he possibly go?

He would just end up coming back here. There was nothing else. There was no one else.

He stood there for a full minute, the mocking bird tattoo on his wrist swooping over his skin, peeking its head from under his cuff, trying to reach its mate, its match—

Trying to go home.

He looked helplessly at the open door, then at Mingyu, his expression twisted with a base sort of despair, imploring and wide-eyed.

“... Is that okay?” He asked, stupidly, though he didn’t know which of them he was asking.

[descendency]

"Why— Why wouldn't—" Mingyu didn't even know how to finish the question, didn't know what to do in a world where Fox was back but they barely knew how to say hello. He swallowed hard, gaze dropping to the floor.

"You… don't have to," he said instead. "I just thought—"

He didn't know how to finish that sentence either.

[foxable]

Fox swallowed, voice thick.

“I don’t know what else changed,” he said, very quietly. “I don’t - um - I don’t know what you remember about me, I don’t know how long I’ve been gone -“

[descendency]

Mingyu startled himself with a smile, expression full of grief and longing. He kept his gaze to the floor, arms curling around his middle.

Strange, that he should chase the memory of Fox to madness, only to find him and wish to flee.

He supposed the hypocrisy of Bai Mingyu remained their one constant. That Mingyu never knew what he wanted, never knew how to protect the ones he loved, never measured up to any test of character until the exact moment it became too late.

"I don't know either. I've lived it, and I don't know either."

'Not my love,' he wanted to say, but he didn't know if it was true. Surely the love had corrupted like everything else, had been dragged screaming into the night.

"You're still... home," he mumbled instead, smile aching so badly it felt carved into his face by blade. "You're my last thought when I close my eyes. My first thought when I wake. I see you everywhere, in everything. Even when you're gone, I think of you all the time."

[foxable]

Not a mere week, then. Fox could summarize that much, at least. But he had no idea how much time he had spent on that boat.

He stood on the precipice of Mingyu’s boudoir, still way too aware of the scent of sex in the room. But where else was he going to go?

Mingyu was his home.

“Okay,” he mumbled, still eloquent as ever, and finally - finally took a step forward. And another. And another. Unless he was inside the lavishly decorated - if somewhat deteriorating - brothel room.

“I-“ he started, and then fumbled. He swallowed again, stepped further into the room, picked up a loose down feather that had drifted over from a pillow and turned it in his hand.

“How long?” He finally managed to ask.

[descendency]

Closing the door behind them, warding it quickly to keep potential intruders out—Mingyu's heart seized to think about Lee Chang walking in now—Mingyu followed just a few paces behind.

At the question, he took in a slow, tight breath, fixing his robe and fastening it properly just for something to do with his hands.

"...since what?" he asked softly, hesitant to offer Fox answers to questions he had not asked, knowing there was too much Fox didn't need to know. Not right away, not like this.

[foxable]

Unfortunately for Mingyu, the careful question was as telling as any answer could be. Fox didn’t know what it meant, exactly, but he had a few guesses, and none of them were good. If it was a simple answer - You’ve been gone a whole month, Mingyu wouldn’t hesitate to give it.

“Um, I don’t really know what— what timeline I’m in, right now,” he mumbled as a reply. “So I am just trying to find where um - if there’s a common— This is a lot different than I expected,” he explained in a bit of a rush. “With the slave ships and the Masked Death Crusaders and the Mermaid Zombies - I can’t even start to figure out what— where this is supposed to be, or when, or—” Oh no. It had all started to spill out and he had to bite into his cheek to stop himself, closing his eyes shut tight. He took a breath. When he opened them again, he started rummaging around, trying to find a drink.

That was a bad sign. He hated drinking. But even he felt like he needed one, right now.

“Okay, um, start with the easiest? How long have you been- um - here. Forever? Do you remember anything else, or — I mean - Death Brigade did say something weird about - worlds and - times, but I thought he meant that the timeline had just gotten - gotten really badly broken, so I— Do you know me from here, or - or from Toronto, or—”